Darkness Is Spreading
by Anne09
Summary: Ginny is left scarred in a unique fashion by her encounter with Tom Riddle. This is a storyline I'm considering pursuing. Please read the first chapter and review with any comments or suggestions. Let me know if it's a story I should continue! Thanks!
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm merely siphoning a little creativity from JK Rowling's brilliance.

Prologue 

Ginevra Weasley was an unusual child for many reasons. Perhaps the most obvious was the fact that she was a witch. However, she wasn't even normal for a witch. She was the youngest child and only daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Growing up with six brothers wasn't exactly easy, but it taught her to overcome the worst ridicules and sibling torture imaginable. She also learned how easily she could disappear in a crowd.

These skills came to fruition during her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She found a friend in Tom Riddle's diary, a story we know all too well. The experience scarred her in a unique fashion. Not even the famous Harry Potter could fully understand the circumstances under which she survived, nor how deeply it affected her. No one knew the vital role it would play in the war. No one, that is, except Albus Dumbledore.


	2. The Weasley Curse

Chapter One: The Weasley Curse

Ginny burst into the common room, cheeks blazing with Weasley rage. She stormed over to the table where her brother and Harry were playing wizard's chess and plopped down next to Hermione. Seamus Finnigan had just given her the lamest break-up line in history: "Gin, you're great, but I just can't date you anymore. Don't worry; we can still snog and all that." She couldn't think of a spell evil enough at the time, so she gave him a swift punch to the face, easily breaking his nose. Leaving her ex-boyfriend in a pile of his own blood was oddly satisfying.

"Half-blooded git," she mumbled to no one in particular.

"Who is?" Hermione asked.

As if on cue, Seamus stumbled through the portrait hole holding a tissue to his nose. It looked as if he'd tried to heal it himself, but couldn't speak the spell clearly enough. The result was a mess worthy of Gilderoy Lockhart. Ginny smiled at her handiwork before running up to her room. She slammed the door shut and slumped against it, relieved to be alone.

The angry tension renounced her body leaving her weak and powerless. She flung herself onto her bed frustrated with her pathetic heart. Seamus was her third boyfriend in only two months. Furious with herself for actually caring, she punched her pillow before burying her head under it. The bed shook with her sobs as the sheet grew wet against her cheek. She pulled the covers over her head too tired to bother with pajamas. Slowly, the sobs subsided as she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, Ginny patiently waited in bed feigning sleep while her roommates got ready. When they'd all left for breakfast, she reluctantly opened her eyes and sighed before rolling out of bed for her daily appraisal in front of the mirror.

She'd spent the whole morning pondering every character flaw. The most serious was her temper, but it rarely came out. She had to admit, she could get rather malicious in certain occasions, but no one, not even Seamus, had seen the full brunt of her anger. The problem had to be in her appearance.

Looking at herself from every possible angle, she still didn't understand what was so repulsive about her. Her legs were a touch too long, making her seem almost as lanky as Ron. Her stomach was toned from many years of Quidditch training, as were her arms. Her breasts were disappointingly small; she was beginning to fear they would never get bigger, despite her mother's constant reassurance that she was just a late bloomer. Her skin was pale, but at least her freckles were gone. Then she caught sight of her fiery red hair and brown eyes. That was it. She was the little sister of six overbearing, over protective, incredibly stupid brothers. No wonder no guy dated her for more than a fortnight. They were afraid. Of what she wasn't sure. She knew for a fact that she was a better witch than all of them. It also seemed ironic that the boys put in Gryffindor for their immense bravery were afraid of her bungling brothers.

In that moment, she realized the Weasley trademark had become the Weasley curse. Unimaginable anger swelled up inside of her at the thought of her impoverished family. For the first time, she felt embarrassed to be a part of it.

Looking around the room, she realized that everything about her was typical of a Weasley: her hand-me-down robes, muggle book collection from Hermione, photographs of her redheaded, freckled family waving stupidly at her and the collage above her bed of newspaper articles about Harry and company. Walking over to her dresser, she slammed the framed newspaper article from their vacation to Egypt face down. A tell-tale crunch sounded; she picked it up and saw a large crack down the center of the glass. Her hand began to shake with anger. A loud knock at the door reverberated painfully in her ears. In one swift movement, she turned around and threw the frame towards the unwelcome sound, releasing a high pitched scream.

"I'll come back later," said a voice hastily.

Breathing heavily, Ginny looked at the broken frame on the floor surprised at her sudden burst of anger. Taking a deep calming breath, she slowly walked forward. The shattered glass crunched satisfyingly under her feet. Leaning down, she picked up the article. A shower of glass fell from the top glistening in the sunlight from the window. Her family was still smiling and waving like nothing had happened. She avoided their gaze and crumpled the paper in her hand. A spare piece of glass sliced into her palm. Instead of letting go, she squeezed it harder between her fingers focusing on the pain in her hand. A drop of blood fell to the floor, followed by the article. Her blood tainted the unfeeling black and white print. A tear slipped down her cheek as she thought of how deeply her family had hurt her throughout the years. She turned her back on them.

Ginny walked over to her dresser and contemplated her belongings. She had to separate herself from her family. Moving quickly, she picked up every framed picture of them and threw them unceremoniously into her bottom drawer. Then, she ripped the newspaper collage from the wall above her bed. Bunching the papers together, she placed them in the middle of the room. After only a moment's hesitation, she set them on fire.

The flames reflected dangerously in her brown eyes; a wicked smile escaped from within tainting her soft features. And yet, a part of her was still unsatisfied. Something inside of her screamed to be released and she found herself too weak to fight against it. There was a flickering in the corner of her eye. She turned her head sharply and found herself staring intently into her own brown eyes. It was the reflection of the fire in the mirror that had caught her attention. She tilted her head slightly, observing her flaming red hair once again. She saw her reflection's lip twitch into a disgusted sneer before realizing that she was doing the same. Her eyes flicked once again to the burning newspapers. At that moment, Ginny decided she wouldn't let her last name destroy her chance for future happiness. It was time to get rid of her Weasley trademark.

She rushed to her trunk and threw out half the contents before finding the book she wanted: "_Simple Hair and Make-Up Charms for the Less Fortunate_". The twins gave it to her for her sixteenth birthday as a joke, but she had not been amused. Opening the book, she got to work.

Twenty minutes later, Ginny was smiling into the mirror having just put on the finishing touches of her make-up. She had black eyeliner on the outside corner of her eyes that faded magically into blue on the inside corner, with a thin layer of white shimmering eye shadow on the lid. Her eyelashes were black, full and curled. She finished the look with a sheer lip-gloss. Taking in the effect, she couldn't help but laugh. She twirled around in delight, her now raven black hair falling in tight curls around her shoulders, her bright blue eyes laughing back at her. But as she stared at her new appearance, an uncomfortable chill went down her spine. Shrugging it off, she smiled defiantly and left for the Great Hall, neglecting to clean the glass and ash from her earlier escapades.

The students in the Great Hall chatted excitedly over their breakfast. It was Friday morning, and tomorrow was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Harry, Ron and Hermione were in their usual seats at the Gryffindor table commenting on how uneventful the year had been so far.

"There's no news at all?" Harry asked Hermione for the umpteenth time.

"Look for yourself if you don't believe me!" she replied, throwing the Daily Prophet across the table onto his plate of eggs.

Harry pored over the paper, oblivious to the bits of his breakfast sticking to the back.

"Maybe it will be a quiet year," Ron said hopefully.

"A quiet year at Hogwarts?" Harry said disbelieving.

"Never," he and Hermione said together, Harry sporting his lopsided grin, Hermione a grim expression.

Ron shrugged and helped himself to more food, being careful to brush against Hermione's arm in the process. She blushed from her seat next to him, as she always did at the slightest touch from Ron. Harry held the paper higher to cover his face. They were awkward enough without seeing their best friend laughing at them.

As Harry read an off-hand article about Lockhart's honorary nomination for Witch's Weekly most charming smile, he heard the Great Hall plunge into an eerie silence, followed by the low hiss of gossiping tongues. Curious, he emerged from behind the paper to see everyone staring at the entrance. He followed their gaze and felt his own jaw drop at the sight of a beautiful young girl with curly black hair

"I didn't know we were getting a new student," Ron said stupidly.

"That's not a new student," Harry managed to say.

"Well who is it?"

"Oh Ronald," Hermione moaned, "Don't you recognize your own sister?"

"What are you on about? That's not Gin—." His voice faltered as realization struck.

His sister was indeed the object of everyone's gaze, but it was unlike any Ginny they'd seen before. Her appearance was striking, but the changes ran deeper than mere physical attributes; her entire demeanor was altered. Instead of turning bright red in embarrassment, she was drinking in the moment, reveling in everyone's stares. She sauntered down the aisle, her grey skirt moving rhythmically with the sway of her hips. Her open robes billowed behind her, and her Gryffindor tie hung loosely around her neck. As she neared Harry, he couldn't help but notice that her crisp white shirt was entirely unbuttoned under her uniform jumper.

Reaching her brother and his friends, she leaned over Harry to get a piece of toast. He desperately tried to ignore the dangerous neckline hovering right next to his face and the alluring scent of her hair wafting towards him. Standing back up, she said cheerily, "Morning, boys. Hermione." Promptly raising one leg after the other over the bench to sit next to Harry, she made no attempt to keep her skirt in a decent position. It was this obvious disregard for propriety that jolted Ron into action.

"Ginny! What do you think you're doing?"

"Eating breakfast, obviously," she replied, taking a bit out of her toast.

"You know what I mean."

"I'm sure I don't." She carefully avoided his accusing glare and squeezed Harry's arm. "Harry, dear, could you pass me a banana?"

Harry promptly knocked over his glass of orange juice reaching for the bananas. His face turned bright red as he waved his wand to clean up the mess.

"What did you do to yourself?" Ron squeaked. "You look dreadful!"

"Well thank you for that assessment," Ginny said viciously cutting off the top of the banana Harry finally managed to give her. "But I disagree. What do you think, Harry?"

She turned her newly acquired blue eyes on Harry and bit off the tip of the banana. He opened his mouth, but only a small croak escaped his lips. She turned back to Ron, a triumphant look on her face.

"See? Harry thinks I look fine."

"He does not! Now button up and stop acting like a three Sickle slut!"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "Ginny, he didn't mean—"

"Don't defend him, Hermione," Ginny snapped. "It's none of your business."

Ginny was livid. Once again, she felt a sensation in the pit of her being, as if something was begging to be released. Pushing it aside, she rose threateningly from the bench and leaned over the table to look Ron in the eye.

"You may only see me as a little sister that you can boss around," she growled, "but don't think for a second that I will not hex you into oblivion the next time you try to tell me what to do."

After holding Ron's gaze for a few more seconds, she looked past him to the ogling boys at the Slytherin table. Knowing they were enjoying the view her unbuttoned blouse was giving them, she smirked and waved. Pushing herself off the table, she picked up her forgotten banana and tossed it to Ron.

"Have a banana."

With one last wink to the Slytherin boys, she sauntered out of the Great Hall.

Disgusted, Ron threw the banana onto the empty plate next to him.

"What was that?" he grumbled to no one in particular.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "Honestly, Harry. You'd think she was a veela the way you were gawking at her."

Harry was still staring after Ginny, entranced by the sight of her retreating figure.

"Harry!" Hermione kicked him under the table.

He finally turned around, but his mouth was still hanging open. Still unable to find his voice, he just pointed after Ginny with a questioning look on his face. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Come on, Harry," Ron groaned. "That's my baby sister you're pointing at."

Hermione laughed harder and threw a small piece of bacon at Harry. That seemed to wake him up, and he replied by flinging bits of egg at her from his fork.

"Hey!" she squealed.

"You started it!"

"Guys, stop it!" Ron cried. "We have to figure out what to do."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"About Ginny dying her hair black! Or maybe you didn't see her. She's the one who looked like death!"

"She didn't look that bad," Harry protested.

"Yes, well it was pretty obvious that you didn't mind," Ron accused.

Harry had the decency to look embarrassed.

"So what are we going to do?" Ron asked, lowering his voice meaningfully.

"Nothing," Hermione said simply.

"What?! We have to do something!"

"No we don't. Ginny's obviously going through a rebellious phase—"

"No, really?" Ron snorted.

"—And we'll just have to wait it out," Hermione finished. "Once she's sorted everything out, we'll just say a simple incantation to get her red hair and brown eyes back and everything will be normal again."

The three finished their breakfast in silence, each fighting the inevitable truth that this was much more than a simple teenage rebellion.

Ginny walked out of the Great Hall laughing quietly. She would never forget the look on Harry's face when she bit into that banana. Trotting gleefully up the stairs, she wondered why she'd never thought to tease him before.

"You'll always be one of them," a voice said behind her.

Spinning around, she pulled her wand out of her robes. She found herself pointing at nothing; the stairwell was empty. Just as she was starting to wonder if she'd imagined it, Draco Malfoy emerged from a shadowy corner beneath her.

"There's no charm that can change your family name. You may look different, but you're still a Weasel," he sneered.

Normally, she would have been intimidated, or even scared, but now all she could feel was irritation for his interruption. Sauntering down the steps, she stopped one level above him so she could look him in the eye.

"Better a weasel than a sniveling, cowardly little ferret."

Malfoy reached for his wand, but the sound of giggling distracted him. Several Hufflepuffs were quickly approaching the staircase. Forgetting the wand, he stepped up next to Ginny. She'd forgotten how tall he was and tried not to breathe in his pleasant scent.

"You'll pay for that," he said under his breath, before making his way up the stairs.

"I doubt it," Ginny called after him.

He paused and barely turned his head to acknowledge her comment.

"I've blocked your curses before," she said, half smiling.

He turned to answer her challenge.

"Don't tempt me," he said, looking her up and down. "After all, there are worse things in the world." With a wink, he turned and walked away.

"Ugh!" _How dare he? _she thought.

The chattering Hufflepuffs started climbing the stairs. When they reached Ginny, one of them said, "Nice hair," which caused a fresh set of giggles.

"Thanks a lot," she muttered under her breath, following them up the stairs.

As she walked back to the Gryffindor common room, she thought about Malfoy's comment. The image of him taking advantage of her sent a chill down her spine. The most disturbing thing was that she couldn't tell if it was a chill of disgust or excitement.


End file.
